Page 97 of Gabriel's Album

“Of course,” I choke out.

Heather kisses my cheek and then lets me go before shaking her head and saying, “Why won’t she reply to me? What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing. You did nothing wrong, Heather. She should fucking call you,” Sebastian growls as he walks over to hand her a drink.

I look up at him and sigh. He’s frowning down at Heather, who’s looking back at him with a sad look on her face.

“I know in my head that’s the truth. Not everything in life is about me—”

“Lies!” Sebastian cuts her off with a grin, and this causes her to chuckle.

“Well, yeah, I know this isn’t about me, but it still hurts that she won’t talk to me.” The amusement from Sebastian’s joke has disappeared from her face, and she looks upset again.

“I just want to know that she’s okay,” I sigh. “I assume she got home to Chicago fine, but I don’tknowthat.”

I voice one of the concerns that have been playing on my mind over the last twenty-four hours. I know she’s perfectly capable of getting home on her own, but it doesn’t mean I haven’t worried about her.

“She’s being a selfish bitch. There, I said it.” Sebastian shrugs his shoulders as he drops into an armchair across from us.

I feel the heat rise inside me, and I glare at him before growling, “Don’t fucking call her that. Ever.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but one glance over at Harrison seems to make him reconsider.

His words are cool, but I can tell they’re a seriously toned-down version of what he’s feeling when he finally utters them. “Fine. But she is being incredibly selfish. All of us”—Sebastian sweeps his arm across in front of himself to indicate to us all—“have tried calling her and sending her messages. The fact that she hasn’t bothered to answer anyone is pissing me off.”

“We just need to give her time,” Harrison says with a stern look at Sebastian. “Calling her names isn’t helping anyone. I’m sure she’ll call one of us soon. In the meantime, we should eat. What does everyone want for dinner?”

He sits down next to Heather and puts his arm around her shoulders as he does. She sinks into his embrace, and I ache for Ariana. I imagine us all sitting here discussing possible dinner plans together, and my chest hurts.

“I’m not really hungry,” Heather shrugs.

“You need to eat, angel.” Harrison frowns at her.

She looks up at him and shakes her head. “I’m not hungry. Whatever everyone else wants is fine.”

Harrison calls a local Chinese restaurant and organizes for food to be delivered to the room. When it arrives, we all sit at the table for the meal. I haven’t really eaten since Ariana left, and I’m surprised by how hungry I am. I pile food onto my plate and start to eat, ignoring how wrong it feels to not have her here with me.

“When are you two flying?” Hayden asks Harrison.

“Thursday morning,” he replies. “Jake’s wedding is on Saturday, and Heather needs to go to the final fitting for her bridesmaid’s dress in the afternoon. We’ve got the bachelor and bachelorette parties on Friday night.”

“Sounds like fun,” Hayden smiles back at him.

“Yeah, it should be.” Harrison looks at Heather’s empty plate and frowns at her. “Please eat something, angel.”

A strange look crosses her face, and she nods, then puts a single spring roll and spoonful of steamed rice on her plate. “I’m not hungry, but okay.”

It’s clear she’s done it just to appease Harrison, but I understand how she feels. I’ve started to eat my food, and it’s tasteless. I’m nowhere near as hungry as I thought, and I just want to be back in my hotel room. I don’t want to talk to my friends; I want to sit and look at pictures of Ariana and wait for her to call me.

I eat about a quarter of what I put onto my plate and then sigh loudly. “Sorry, guys, I’m going to go back to my room. I’m tired, and I just want to get some rest.”

They express their concern about me, which I do appreciate, but it’s all too much right now. I’m grateful when I leave Harrison and Heather’s suite and reach the sanctity of my own. I pull my phone out immediately and hate the lack of contact from Ariana. I’ve got another message from Celeste, so I call her back.

“Hey, sis, how are you?” I ask when she answers.

“I was about to ask you that question. I can’t seem to go five minutes without someone sending me a news article about you. Are you okay?” she asks in a kind voice.

I sigh and say, “Yeah, all good. Not thrilled, but I’m coping.”

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